Hip-hop and jazz legend Ali Shaheed Muhammad discusses his new album, all things Jazz Is Dead, the art of crate-digging and whether A Tribe Called Quest will ever reunite.
Since A Tribe Called Quest’s final show in 2017, it seems hasn’t stopped. If you include soundtrack work for Cross and Strung with collaborator , ‘Midnight Hour: Lost Tapes’ is his fourth album of the year. When I catch him over Zoom, I ask how he maintains such a high work rate: “I have no idea”, he admits, before laughing: “Actually, that’s not true. I get like three hours of sleep; that’s horrible for my age.”
It seems as if he’s near pathologically obsessed with making music, but really it comes from a place we can all relate to: “My mum was a hard-working single parent. I begged her for two turntables,” Muhammad confesses. “She saved up to get me those. They were my first instruments. I like to look at my career as I’m not letting my mother down. Ever.”
It’s been nine years since announced at that it would be their last show ever following the passing of Phife Dawg. While contemporaries such as and have got back together after tragedy to an increasingly younger audience, A Tribe Called Quest haven’t found their way back yet, despite frequently appearing at the top of lists of desired reunions. “It’s hard to say,” Muhammad admits, on whether there’s any realistic scenario for them to reunite. “Things with Tribe can never be predetermined… It’s a challenge with Phife no longer with us.”
Contemporaries De La Soul become his example: “De La was actually touring when Dave was sick, so I think they were able to prepare for touring without him. For us, we didn’t have that preparation.” Muhammad wavers slightly: “The energy Q-Tip and Phife had on stage was unmatched. His absence is greatly felt by us.”
It’s not the first time a group feels like they can’t get back together after loss — hard stop in 2012 is an example: “I remember when MCA passed,” Muhammad recalls, “We invited those guys to come out and do a quick feature, and they said ‘we can’t do it.’ At the time, I respectfully understood, but I didn’t know what it felt like until Phife passed.”
“We haven’t figured it out yet,” he admits, before seemingly leaving the door open for fans to hope: “I can’t answer, but I’m always open to the possibility of something.”
Muhammad and Younge’s newly released album ‘The Midnight Hour: Lost Tapes’ is billed as ‘The album that stepped aside for Jazz Is Dead arrives to close its third series. Full Circle.’ “When we look back to our origins, it was to pay homage to jazz luminaries. Us talking about what’s next for series four, to close series three, we realised we never finished out the Midnight Hour record.”
“We were excited about Jazz Is Dead and threw our minds totally into that… Thinking of closing out series three, this started it all. It would be a nice thing for it to close it out.” These tapes have been sitting in the vault since 2020: six years on, they’re now firmly established in the world of jazz. “It’s a fragment of time,” Muhammad explains. “It’s weird thinking about it and what we were inspired by.”
The roots of ‘Lost Tapes’ stretch back to 2018; between the early sessions, Muhammad and Younge took a trip to Brazil – practically a holy pilgrimage for any jazz fan – which helped shape their ethos. “We strive to make music that has a timeless feel. We hope you can’t measure or mark it by a moment in time.”
With a career of over four decades, anniversaries come a dime a dozen for someone like Ali. Jazz Is Dead turns 10 next year, but another milestone has been hit recently: the seminal ‘The Low End Theory’ turned 35. “I’m thankful people still keep it as an important musical component of their lives,” he mentions. “It still sounds fresh… people have tried to copy it, which is so flattering.”
Turning his attention back toward the future, he affirms: “The funny thing is, both Q-Tip and I are as musically excited as we were back then. We try to keep that spirit alive.”
‘The Low End Theory’ is still universally acclaimed, from The Source to Fantano. Crucially, its mix of jazz and rap set the blueprint for alt hip-hop — inspiring artists as diverse as and . It’s safe to say it’s stood the test of time. “It was about being as truthful as we could be in that moment,” Muhammad reflects on whether he realised the magnitude of what they were creating. “We were teenagers, turning into young adults. We wanted to make the best music we possibly could in the moment. Not just for hip-hop or the culture, but in general.”
He reveals a few influences: “We looked to greats like Earth, Wind & Fire, or Prince. Especially after we heard Prince had loved ‘Bonita Applebum.’ If they liked that from the first record, then let’s go hard to make the greatest record.” Humbly, he adds: “Whatever happened after is the icing on the cake.”
Across our half-an-hour chat, one thread keeps reappearing: legends and carrying forward legacies. With his own status to maintain, Ali’s devotion to making sure the luminaries that inspire him get their recognition is admirable. ‘Lost Tapes’ is full of sonic gratitude for greats like Bill Evans and Miles Davis. “I can’t speak for Adrian, but what we captured in the first Midnight album was between Isaac Hayes, Quincy Jones, and John Coltrane […] even the works of A Tribe Called Quest; there’s this hip-hop thread in all our music”, he explains about their influences. “With The Lost Tapes, it was just a continuation of what we started with the first record. We always wanted to bring an opulent feeling: it’s why we recorded with an orchestra.”
The shout-outs to icons keep coming. The ‘Jazz Is Dead’ series and label, after all, is devoted to giving flowers to the undernamed old guard. The series has seen and collaborate, but Muhammad still has dream guests. “We had plans to do things with [James] Mtume; he was super excited. Then he got sick. The prospect of what he wanted to do with us was kind of helping him through the moment.”
“We had a dream of doing something with Ahmad Jamal, or Eddie Palmieri. Unfortunately, these are people who have now left us, but have left us with beautiful music.” Shifting back to future possibilities he adds: “We’d love to work with Milton [Nascimento]. I know he’s not doing anything at this point. Herbie [Hancock] would be another. There are so many […] we just want to make music with legends in the making.”
The reclaiming of ‘Jazz Is Dead’ has seemingly worked — there’s been an unexpected revolution over the last ten years. At the eye of the storm is the UK, with groups like and selling out arenas. “It’s massive!” Muhammad admits. “We do what we do in LA or New York, but what’s coming out of the UK, I think, is a thriving generation of younger jazz.” Despite his focus on the past, Muhammad still recognises the artists flying the flag for the genre: “I like what Miss [Emma-Jean] Thackray’s doing. I like Nubya Garcia, Ezra Collective and Nubiyan Twist a lot.” With series four looming, I wonder if the likes of Ezra Collective can expect an invite. “We’re down to make magic”, Muhammad responds. “If they say we want to rock with you guys, we’re ready to go. Our only caveat is they come to Linear Labs, where everything is analogue […] If people want to get down on two-inch tape, old compressors and EQs that have this great warmth, then we’re willing!” The offer is on the table: Femi Koleoso, make it happen.
In a pre-recorded tribute for their 2024 Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction, said, “When you study hip-hop, A Tribe Called Quest will be as important as Coltrane.” Muhammad’s focus on jazz places him at an intersection where he honours Tribe’s roots and the people who inspired them. “It’s absolutely honouring Tribe,” he insists, referencing his current work. “When we started, I worked with two important jazz artists. The first was Greg Osby — a saxophonist. He was daring, and he believed not only in what we were doing, but also in the younger generation and the voice of hip-hop at the time. He wanted to merge the two, seeing that we were inspired by jazz and all our samples were jazz-based.”
Despite the risk of name-dropping, Muhammad is crucially aware of the shoulders he stands on. “Gil Scott-Heron was another. Working with both of them, I see that work as the precursor to Jazz Is Dead and as a continuation of it. It’s a conversation I started a long time ago through hip-hop. I think a lot of people of my generation in the 90s learned about jazz music because of the music we and others like or from were sampling […] Where Jazz Is Dead is, when it comes to the musical element with Adrian and me, we think through the vessel of hip-hop. That’s inclusive of A Tribe Called Quest, but also the spirit of why these jazz songs were sampled.” Jazz gave Muhammad his career: he treats his current work as a custodial privilege.
With confirmation of both his debt to jazz and hip-hop, I mention he sounds like he’s trying to create something that he once would’ve pulled out of a crate. “Digging through crates and discovering music is exciting. You’re excited to share it,” he agrees. “You keep that spirit going. It’s about being inspired, feeling it, absorbing it, then sharing it.”
Muhammad’s career is built on the culture of crate-digging and flipping samples, pre-dating the current ubiquity of streaming, which has changed the landscape he helped refine. “It has pros and cons. Devices like these,” he holds up his phone, “they can carry like 5,000 crates. If you look at your parents’ collection, they’d have maybe three.”
“I think music discovery with streaming has a good aspect, but the downfall is that when you’re digging through crates, you’ll listen to that one record over and over. You’ll look at the album cover, read the credits and hope there’s some sort of connection.” Muhammad’s sentiment is built around patience: allowing an album to grow on you, and not hopping onto the next available thing. “With streaming, you kind of forget. Songs don’t always stay with you. When you buy a record, then play it, when one side’s over, you have to take a second to stop. That moment of stopping allows you to process things differently.”
Muhammad’s self-imposed duty to the past brings to mind a La La Land quote: “How are you gonna be a revolutionary if you’re such a traditionalist?” When I ask what he thinks the future of jazz will look like, he initially seems to dodge the question: “Man, I don’t want to be the person who says what will happen. I’ll say I hope.” He pauses before taking the humanist approach: “I hope that, as divisive as it is, and I’m speaking as an American, with what’s happening here, and what I’m seeing in Europe too, whatever happens with music, people will be really honest about what’s going on and remember their humanity as artists.”
In times of turmoil, music is always the unifying factor. He closes by insisting: “When we look at other cultures, you realise we all essentially want the same thing. Let that be a part of the music expression.” His custodial approach makes sense now: he’s made his innovation and gotten his flowers. All that’s left is to protect the music.
‘Midnight Hour: Lost Tapes’ is out now.